Illegitimacy
by Rain Fernandez
Summary: She didn't know that he was an assassin, Though he wanted to tell her, He couldn't. Warning: Consensual sex with a Minor (Guys, calm down she's sixteen.) Teen Pregnancy and Possibly Death. Read at your own risk. Pairing: Kirill/OFC (Rain)
1. Prologue

Prologue

I never looked at the way that I would go about life until my parents split when I was six. After eight years of constant arguing and illegitimate affairs, they finally put an end to it. I was living in Miami, Florida when the showdown occurred between the two and I couldn't help but wish I was never birthed. My dad kind of saw me as a failure; I was a daughter instead of a son, which meant that he didn't spend as much time as me. I was his fourth attempt at having a son, and my mother happened to be his third woman.

"…I AM DONE! YOU CAN KEEP YOUR SHIT. JUST GIVE ME MY DAUGHTER…" I heard my mother cry, as they were arguing with who gets to split up the house and things.

As I sat silently in the corner, hugging my favorite stuffed unicorn that I called "Softy" tears began to run down my cheeks.

'…All my fault... It's all my fault…' I thought to myself as their yelling voices began to overpower my mind.

The next two weeks were quiet, which was suspicious. I finally got the peace that I much wished for. My mom was packing her things—and mine as well.

"Mommy, are we going somewhere?" I asked.

"…Er, Something like that…" She mumbled.

"Is daddy coming?" I asked again, noticing that she wasn't as bright and charming as she used to be.

She looked at me with sad eyes and hesitated before saying 'no.'

I looked down at my feet, knowing that we were leaving. Not something that every six year old could understand. She left my room with my things and put them into a large suitcase. My dad was in the living room sitting in a recliner chair and he had a bottle of whiskey in his hand, as he tried to mix it with Coca-Cola. My mom glanced up at him and rolled her eyes. The tension between the two was so thick that I felt like I was having a panic attack. I turned around and went back into my room and clutched the stuffed unicorn.

Two days had passed by quickly as my clothes had gradually disappeared from my closet. The day that I had to depart from my beloved home was one of the most memorable days of my life—negatively.

It was about five in the morning when my mother woke me up. I had trouble sleeping, so I woke up with ease. My mom was ironing my clothes and my dad was standing in the sliding door smoking a cigarette for probably the fourth time within the hour. His brown eyes were cold and angry. I could see his death glare at my mother as she was ironing my jeans.

"Put these on, honey." My mom said as she handed my pants to me. I grabbed them and I went to my room and yanked them on.

"Honey, get your baby and get in the car." My mother whispered as she grabbed the last of my things.

The car ride to the airport was dead silent. My parents were shooting daggers at each other with their eyes and I could only watch as they violently killed each other in their minds. I decided to pretend that it wasn't happening as I looked through the window into the darkness and slip into oblivion…

"HEY. Get out the truck." My dad hissed through his teeth. I didn't know that he was talking to me until I turned my head to face him. I nodded and swiftly got out the truck and shut the door to avoid his wrath. I reminded him too much of my mother, since I was the spitting image of her. I had her honey colored eyes and some of her features, though his were more dominant. I couldn't understand why he expressed his hatred towards me at the time. I was too young to understand.

My mom grabbed my hand and gently pulled me into the entrance of the terminal, as my dad took a long drag of his cigarette and drove off, purposely forgetting to hug us—or at least his own daughter. My mom walked over to check in and we handed over our bags. The clerk could see hurt in my eyes as she was about to put the suitcase that held Softy in its confines onto the belt.

"Sweetie, is there something wrong?" She asked, her blue eyes showing genuine concern for me. Her hair was a shiny dirty blonde, something I envied deep within even to this day.

I simply shook my head and looked down at my feet. I was too embarrassed to tell her that I couldn't leave without my stuffed animal. My parents had an expectation that I should act slightly older, considering that I was moving to a very dangerous location with my mother.

My mom knew why I was bummed out, but she went ahead and told the woman that my stuffed unicorn was in the suitcase.

"Oh, Well, I'm not supposed to do this, but…" she whispered as she opened the suitcase, "Here" She smiled handing over the pink and white plush toy. My eyes brightened up with excitement as I hugged it.

"Thank you, miss!" I exclaimed in delight.

She laughed heartily at my joy as she sealed up the suitcase. Something told me that she could sense that I was already having a tough time with my personal life—or at least my mom.

My mom gave a silent 'thank you' to the blonde woman and she gave my mom a thumb's up. She gave my mom the tickets and wished us a safe flight. We traveled up the escalator in the airport and quickly made break for security. The line was suspiciously small, as if nobody had flights that day—or at least at the dark hour. My mother and I went through the machines for screening and after we finally put our shoes back on, we made our way to our gate to await departure. She began to cry, regardless of me being next to her. She buried her face into her jacket and let the floodgates open as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"What's wrong, mommy?" I asked.

"Nothing," she sniffed. "I have something in my eye." She lied. I may have been six, but I knew exactly what crying was… I did it every day.

I shrugged off the subject since I knew could ask minimal questions.

After three hours of waiting to board, we finally got on the plane and I drifted into a deep sleep, soon forgetting about my painful life in Florida; ready to start a new one in Russia.


	2. Chapter One: Ten Years Later

Chapter 1: Ten Years Later

I woke up in my queen sized bed at three in the morning. The vague memory of my father kicking my mother and me out of the car haunted me from time to time in my dreams. I shrugged and stepped out of my bed and made my way to the bathroom. I flipped on the light and stared into the mirror.

"Jesus Christ." I muttered out loud. I ran my hand through my tightly wound curly hair as I ran cold water. I cupped my hands and splashed it on my face; something I usually did if I woke up as early as I did. I could hear my mom shuffling in her bed through the paper thin walls. I remembered that she had to get up in about thirty minutes or so given that the time was about 3:07 AM. I shut the light off and crept back into the darkness of my room. I decided to read until I fell asleep again. I walked over to my small bookshelf that held my T.V. stand and grabbed Twilight. I powered on my iPod and changed the song to 'Paper Aeroplane' by KT Tunstall.

I didn't know that I spent about three hours reading until I looked at my alarm clock; the red digits reading '6:24'

"Shit." I breathed out, sticking my Edward Cullen book mark into the book. I shifted out of the bed, tucking my iPod into my pocket and stumbled into the small kitchen that was only seven yards from my room. I was surprised to find out that my mother had already left for work; usually she would tell me if she knew that I was awake that she was leaving.

I opened the refrigerator and looked for the eggs to cook, but saw none. I cursed under my breath and shut it, annoyed with our minimal budget. I walked over to the other side of the tiny kitchen and crouched under the counter and looked for the Chex and failed at finding it. I stood up and found a note on the counter.

_Rain, I know that there aren't any eggs or cereal… I will have to go grocery shopping before I get home… by the way your father is late on child support, so I won't be able to have seventeenth birthday in June… Sorry, honey :(_

_Mom_

"Damn you, Dad." I cursed under my breath. I walked back to the fridge and searched for something to eat. I finally found some left over spaghetti from two nights ago, but it was for my mom when she went to work. I felt guilty about eating it but I thought 'Eh, she'll understand.' I went to the microwave and placed the cold food into the white box. I shut the door and punched in the numbers for the amount of time it should heat. As I waited, I noticed that my phone was vibrating in my pocket. I pulled out the tiny white object and read the caller ID. It was my ex-boyfriend, Kirill. I rolled my eyes and sent him straight to voicemail. I would not easily forgive him for his wandering eyes and lying tongue. It was still a fresh subject that could not be cooled anytime soon. About thirty seconds after I received the call, I got a text.

'_RAIN, ANSWER YOUR GODDAMNED PHONE. I KNOW YOU'RE UP.'_

I decided that it was best to ignore his text and I shoved my phone back into my pocket. The beeping of the microwave indicated that my breakfast was ready. I pulled it out of the microwave and I put it on the counter. I snatched the utensil drawer opened and grabbed a fork, quickly slamming the drawer shut with my hip. I grabbed my pasta and sat down at the small, circular glass table. I ate in silence as the song on my iPod shuffled automatically to 'True Romance' by Silverstein. I sighed as I listened to the words of the song, simultaneously chewing my food to the drum beat in the song.

After I finished eating, I went to rinse my bowl out in the sink. I made my way into the living room which was literally seven steps out of the kitchen and turned off the light. I sat on the couch and I pulled my iPod out of my pocket and turned it off, pulling my headphones out of my ears. I checked my skull head watch and read 6:45. I shook my head as the effects of not getting a good night's sleep were taking its toll on me. I finally started to drift until I was quickly pulled out of oblivion by pounding on the door. I jumped and quietly looked through the peephole, trying to indicate that I was either gone or sleeping. I thanked God that the lights were off, given that it was still darkish outside. My porch lights were on so I could clearly see his face. It was Kirill.

'Fuck!' I thought; my heart was beating against the inside of my chest. I tried to silently tiptoe back into my room using the dimmest setting of the light my phone had to offer to see where I was going. I finally reached my room and I crawled back into my bed and laid my head down into the soft pillow. I could still hear him pounding on the door the chains on his clothes were as loud as the church bells five miles away.

"GODDAMN IT RAIN, OPEN THE DOOR! I KNOW THAT YOU'RE AWAKE!"

I chose to ignore it and try to fall asleep, though, he did intimidate me much. I was thankful that I didn't give him the key to my house like he asked. But I began to really think it through. Kirill was pretty muscular, though. He was about six-foot-one with tanned. He spoke English and Russian; fluent in both languages. He possessed a thick accent when he spoke English which made him even more intimidating when he was upset.

"Damn it, Rain, what did you get yourself into?" I cursed at myself for deciding to ignore him.

I was pried from my thoughts as I took notice to the automatic silence. I crawled out of my bed and looked through the peephole. He wasn't there. I walked to the kitchen where the sliding door was, directly parallel to the front door, only about sixteen steps away. I peeked behind the curtain. Given the porch lights were on, I couldn't see him. I opened the sliding door and peered around the corner, and he was nowhere to be spotted. I shut the door and locked the first lock and second lock at the top of the glass.

"He's gone…" I sighed quietly. I walked back into my room and sat on my bed, forgetting the window by my bed.

"Wait a minute…" I said realizing that my relief was long gone. I got up for the third time and almost stumbled in the still darkness of my house. I peeked out the window, thankful that the blinds were somewhat open and I didn't have to give away that I was looking for him. His hazel eyes that I remembered to be warm and comforting were icy and cold as the very winter morning. I shifted to the left of the window and his eyes stayed forward. Snow fell into his short, soft hair and I could see that he was getting cold. However, he didn't budge.


	3. Chapter Two: Anger and Lust

Chapter 2: Anger and Lust

"Can he see me?" I whispered out loud. I didn't want to put that to the test by giving away that I was looking at him so I decided to stand there and watch him as I shifted around the room watching his eyes to see if they followed me.

Surprisingly they didn't. But he did cup his hands against the window to see better, which he apparently failed miserably at. I decided to mess with him by running over to my mothers' room which was directly next to mine, however her window was in the back. I pounded on the wall and made it to seem as if my mother was home with a 'friend.' I was thankful for the carpet because it muffled the sound of my feet impacting the ground beneath me. In that instant I ran swiftly back to my window, watching him say the words 'Shit' as he would normally do under his breath. His head was turned towards my mom's room, face in apparent disgust. I tried to stifle a giggle but failed miserably as his head snapped to my window as his hands were planted firmly on either side of the window. His lips twisted into a wicked smirk and I could see a flame in his eyes. I mouthed the word 'FUCK' as I would yell it. He picked up on my presence and in the silence of the morning, I could hear him through the window.

"Rain, I know you're there. Get your ass out here…NOW." He demanded in English.

I stood, stunned by the intimidation that had affected me grievously. His face inched closer to my window and repeated his words louder, causing me to jump back. But suddenly a boost of confidence and adrenaline clouded my judgment of the situation and I snatched up my blinds. I yanked the window open and punched the screen out nearly hitting him in the face, but thanks to his quick reflexes, I missed— for my sake at least. The chill of the December morning was taking its toll on my exposed skin, given that I was only wearing a pair of girl boxers and an oversized T-shirt.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?" I shouted in Russian, despite my neighbor, Dmitry being in his driveway, getting ready to head to work. He stopped and stared at the two of us. My eyes shifted to look at him and Kirill turned his head to face him.

"What the hell are you staring at, faggot?" The twenty-two year old said loud enough for Dmitry to hear.

Dmitry stumbled backwards, equally as intimidated. He hopped in his car without hesitation and I could see that he pulled out his phone. I had a feeling that he was going to call either my mom or the cops… or both. I turned my head back to Kirill who was still facing Dmitry as he pulled out the driveway. When Dmitry began to speed away, Kirill shot the bird up; making sure that Dmitry saw him.

"HEY!" I yelled, grabbing Kirill's hair and turning his head to face me, "What in the blue hell are you doing here?" I demanded in English. He said nothing. He knew that that had always pissed me off.

"Kirill, I am talking—" He cut my sentence off with a heated kiss.

It wasn't passionate or soft. It was angry, and demanding. I wanted to push him off but I couldn't find the strength to do it until my inner monologue reminded me of why I was upset with him. I planted both of my hands on his shoulders and pushed him back with enough force to knock him on his ass. I jumped out of the window practically barefoot with only socks on; despite the instant cold that was delivered when my weight met the seven inches of snow on the ground.

He stared up at me, with the dumbest, cutest surprised look on his face. I smiled inwardly, knowing that I had control of the situation. Despite being only five-foot-four, I was pretty strong, and slightly plump. And for being Sixteen, I had killer curves. My mocha skin was shimmering in the moonlight that was retiring for the night. I could tell that Kirill could see the rage flickering through my eyes.

I towered over the man and I took four steps closer to him, my feet planted firmly on either side of his upper thighs.

"Now you listen to me and you better listen good, coz I won't repeat myself." I hissed.

He shifted uncomfortably, given he was sandwiched between the snow melting beneath him and me. I crouched down; low enough to straddle his hips and grabbed the back of his head.

"I have a legitimate reason to not call you, or answer your texts… When I said it was over last month, I MEANT IT." My voice was strong, but calm.

I could tell that he was in fact listening to me by the evident fear in his eyes. He had never seen this side of me. I was always the quiet girl that appeared to be sensitive and passive. But I picked up on another emotion in his eyes that I tried to figure out in the silence between the two of us.

He licked his lips in anticipation and then I realized that he was feeling lust. I knitted my eyebrows in a blind rage and I slapped him. Hard. He turned his head back and I didn't see a fury in his eyes. Only a further desire; he attempted to pull my head down for another kiss but I resisted. He pulled my head down; not with so much force to hurt me, but enough force to get me to submit to him. I still curse myself for that. I melted into the heated kiss, his stubble was making my mouth and chin sore, but I didn't care. I was wrapped up in the moment, but I had enough conscience to get him inside the house so the whole city couldn't see.

He helped me through my window and I yanked him inside by the collar of his shirt. I slammed the window shut and I spun us around so my back was facing the closet in my small room. I pushed him on my bed so he was horizontal to it. I straddled him and I kissed him hard; our teeth and tongues were colliding.

He ran his hands up and down my sides and tried to pry off my shirt. I gently but assertively grabbed them and put them down to his sides, despite the fact that I knew that instinctively, he would immediately have them on my body again. I rolled my eyes behind my closed eyelids as I continued to kiss him. He brought his hand up to my face and he caressed my right cheek. I could feel his erection against my bare inner thigh. My eyes flew open and I jumped off him.

"What's the matter?" He yelled in Russian, pissed off at the loss of contact.

"Kirill, I can't do this. Not now…" I leaned against my closet door and slid down until I was sitting. He was still on my bed; sitting upright, his hazel eyes were full of concern. Unlike most men would have done, he got up and sat next to me.

"I'm sorry, Rain. For everything." He spoke in English after two minutes of a long uncomfortable silence. He looked down, eyes saddened.

I lifted up his chin so his eyes met mine. I looked deep into them, analyzing if he was being truly genuine or just trying to get me to give in and sleep with him, though I knew I wasn't that easy. He had 99.9 percent truth in his eyes.

"I forgive you…" I stated, barely above a whisper.

I pulled him into a kiss and the heated passion vanished. It felt like our very first kiss together; soft and gentle. Full of the promise of love. We disconnected our lips and stared into each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, ruefully.

"Don't worry 'bout it." I murmured, a small smile played with my lips.


	4. Chapter Three: Forgiveness

Chapter 3: Forgiveness

* * *

A few weeks had passed since Kirill and I made up. I could finally have him around my mom. She actually liked him being around for once, given that she was racially biased. She didn't like the fact that my boyfriend was white, let alone Russian, however, she did consider financial 'benefits' in the future (So she put it).

The last Saturday of winter break, Kirill tapped on my window at about midnight. If you could see me in my pitch black room, you would be able to see the stupid confused look on my face.

'The shit is he doing here?' I wondered.

I opened the window and removed the screen so he could climb in with ease, despite the bookshelf I had moved under the window. My room was now flooded with moonlight and I could see Kirill's hazel eyes as clear as day, shimmering.

"I love you, Rain." He said. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my waist and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He dipped his head down to kiss me, given that I was nine inches shorter than him.

I broke the kiss to shut the window and the curtains. I turned around to face him as I blindly reached for the light switch on my lamp.

When the room was glowing with light, he had a small smile on his face, something that occurred rarely but he didn't care. I giggled, content with the rare occasion.

"What?" He asked, completely oblivious of what I was laughing at.

"Nothing," I said, and jumped up into his arms as he caught both my thighs with each hand. I wrapped my legs around his waist and I kissed him again.

"No… Seriously…What's…So…Funny?" He asked in English between the multiple kisses I was giving him.

"You," I smiled.

"How? What'd I do?" He asked, intrigued.

"You are just too sweet" I said, content was evident in my voice.

"Really?" He asked in a subtly seductive tone, which made me internally shudder… Damned teenage hormones.

"Da." I dragged the word in a childish way.

"What about your mother?" He asked, apparently somewhat frightened.

"Don't worry, she's at a New Year's party so she'll probably get wasted." I reassured him.

He seemed okay with it but was still skeptical. I had to kiss his weak spot on his neck to prove him otherwise. In that moment, I could have sworn I heard him purr. I continued to kiss his neck, alternating between the left and right side, earning multiple groans from him. He walked over to my bed and gently plopped me onto the soft mattress. I marveled at his height, how he had total control over me and I knew that he was completely unpredictable, considering that he had a crazy temper. He pulled off my shorts and began kissing my left inner thigh. I couldn't help but squirm under his touch, given I was extremely ticklish. However, he didn't know that I moaned SEVERELY when I was tickled…in the right places. (i.e. My neck)

I sat up and his lips made their way up to my mouth, thankfully missing my neck. Oh, but relief only lasted for a few minutes because my worst fears were confirmed. He gave me a couple love bites then I moaned uncontrollably. When he stopped, My face flushed of blood.

"Damn, woman. If I could do this to you in foreplay…" He smirked, muttering in Russian.

I felt all but embarrassed, but apparently it turned the man on. My thoughts were confirmed when I saw the bulge in his denim pants. My eyes went wide but I quickly shut them so I didn't stare. Even when I wasn't looking at him I could feel him smirk. Kirill kissed me deeply, again, probing my mouth with his thick tongue. I involuntarily moaned softly as his right hand ran up my left thigh as he yanked it over his waist. He was ground his erection against my core and I slowly began to submit, loving the way that it felt. Though, we weren't actually having legitimate intercourse, It was definitely the best feeling I have ever had…

"SHIT" I yelped, Scrambling to my feet as Kirill instinctively jumped up.

"What, What?" He asked, "Did I hurt you?" He added, concern growing in his eyes.

"No, At least, not yet." I mumbled that last part.

"What do you mean, not yet?" He asked in English. I didn't answer him. "RAIN." He demanded.

I looked up in his hazel eyes. I couldn't tell him that I still had the V Card. But I had no other choice.

"I'm still a virgin." I hesitated. I felt ashamed because I led him on to this point and I chickened out at the last minute.

I could tell he was trying to suppress a smile but he epically failed, bursting out into a hysterical laughter. I wanted to cry so badly, but I was strong enough to hold my tears back. He started turning pink as he continued to laugh. Finally, after the longest most humiliating 60 seconds of my life, he stopped laughing noticing that I wasn't laughing with him.

"You're serious?" He asked in Russian.

I nodded, embarrassed.

"Rain, I am... So sorry." He said, regretfully.

"Not even close." I said angrily.

As I swiftly got off the bed and sped past him; but before i could get a foot out of the room, he grabbed my left arm and pulled me into his chest. He lifted my chin up so my eyes could meet his. He pulled me into a kiss and tried to comfort me, knowing that he was wrong. He rarely ever admitted that he was wrong, but I guess this was close enough.


End file.
